The Nightmare Hospital
by The-Time-Travelling-Hippie
Summary: Murdock is transferred to the 'Alice Mental Institution'. A place where sanity is destroyed and nightmares are created. But is there more going on then anyone realises? Chapter 12 up!
1. It's what he needs

(A/N): This is my first story for this category, I hope you enjoy it. I don't know if I should carry this on, so if you have any ideas or you enjoyed it, leave a review!

Disclaimer: I own Nada.

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

…

"Mr Smith I really think Murdock needs this."

Ritcher walked quickly after Hannibal, struggling to keep up with him. He grabbed onto the Colonel's shoulder, his grip suddenly like a vice.

"He nearly killed a patient. You saw him, I think we're all out of options."

Hannibal sighed heavily. "It was Ammonia wasn't it?"

The psychologist nodded, releasing his hold on the older man. The Colonel hated to admit it, but Ritcher was right, Murdock did need help, and fast. These hallucinations were getting out of hand, they were destroying his life. Sure, Billy was okay. But when they told him to do things; bad things, was when they _had _to stop.

So they were going to transfer him to a different hospital; one that specialized in his conditions. It was somewhere in Texas, they didn't exactly give him all the details though.

"'The Alice Mental Institution'. I don't know, Colonel. Something seems a bit off..." Face turned over the leaflet Dr Ritcher had given him. Sceptical, he handed the paper to B.A who grunted and shook his head.

"Seems suspicious."

Hannibal reached out to take the leaflet but the burly male ignored him, studying the paper with intense concentration. The Colonel's steely blue eyes bored into Faceman, telling him that this was for the best.

"It's not about what we think, it's about what Murdock _needs_." he stated, snatching the paper off of B.A. Peck sighed, nodding slowly, a look of regret on his handsome face.

"When is he going?"

"Tomorrow,"

The bigger of the two other men grumbled and muttered angrily under his breath. As he clambered into the front of the van, he wasn't sure but Hannibal think he heard a small sniffle come out of B.A as he started the vehicle.

**(Back at the VA) **

Murdock sat, sulking in his room. He didn't mean for things to get out of control. The pilot's eyes were distant, unfocused. He could see Billy, a few other things he wouldn't like to mention, and the rest of his team.

Hannibal reached for one of his cheap, chunky cigars as Face pulled his best, charming grin, winking seductively. B.A rolled his dark eyes, snorting as he did so. The Captain began to hum softly to himself, trying to calm the growing fear that kindled in the pit of his stomach. That wasn't working, they were still there. He knew they couldn't possibly be real; they had left the hospital hours ago. The thing which scared him was how realistic they looked. The authenticity of them puzzled him, he didn't know he was that organized. He had figured out every single detail. The individual fibres of fine, white hair that stuck from the top of Hannibal's head. The perfectly pearly, white teeth that shone in Face's smile. The bulky, profound veins that popped out of B.A's biceps. He was amazed but disturbed. Transfixed, he didn't hear the soft tap at the door and a short, cute nurse step into his room.

"Mr Murdock?" she called, concern blossoming in her expression.

He shuddered and turned to the voice that was calling him. He breathed a relieved sigh and waved her in.

"Hey, Missie. What can ol' H.M do for ya'?" His southern accent was strong, lulling.

"Doctor Ritcher told me to help you pack your bags."

He paused, confusion evident on his paling expression.

"Uh, _why _do I have to pack my bags?" asked Murdock, adjusting the cap on his head accordingly.

"Oh, didn't he tell you? You're being moved to a different hospital tomorrow." she explained as a small, sad smile appeared on her face.

The Pilot spluttered, ears burning with anger, face red with anguish. "Y'all can't move me! Don' I have a say in any o' this?"

"I'm sorry. You'll have to talk to Doctor Ritcher about that, although it's highly unlikely he's going to change his plans..."

Before the unhinged Captain could open his mouth to argue any more, the nurse was gone. He plodded across the one of his many arcade machines, trying to drown out the self-pity that waded into his thoughts.

_'It's just a different hospital, it'll be all right. Face is sure to spring me in no time.'_

Although he told himself that everything was going to be okay, a niggling, anxious feeling crept in at the back of his skull.

_'Why would they wanna move lil' ol' me anyway? I'm not a bad patient, am I?' _

He couldn't even believe he was thinking about that. His fellow crazies loved him, treated him like family. But _they_ were proper basket-cases, _he_ was somewhere in between. Trapped in the middle of normality and insanity. Or was he? He was never really sure. Normal people didn't hear things and see things that weren't there. So maybe, he _was_ crazy.

He liked it though, thought of it as some sort of gift. He could see things, hear things that didn't exist, it was like a super power of some sort.

A scary one at that.

The Pilot wondered about the hospital change. He pictured it as a calm, scenic, relaxing place with ivory brickwork and huge, glorious stained glass windows. Men dressed in white would watch over jolly, laughing patients as they waited for their sanity to return from whence it came.

It seemed like a nice place in his head. Of course, that was all in his mind, so it obviously wouldn't be like he imagined it. It couldn't of been Hannibal's decision, could it? His team knew how much he loved messing around in the VA, teasing the orderlies, starting food fights in the canteen. Murdock released a heavy sigh. It dampened the mood, turning the air sour and clammy. There was nothing he could do, the zany, eccentric ideas that exploded into his thoughts slowly died away.

He dragged his suitcase out from under his bed, and began packing his things.

_'What does it matter anyway? They're probably gonna knock me out, no point tryin'a resist 'em.' _

When he had finished he slumped back down on the bed, his eyes slowly closing, trapping him in a haunted, restless sleep.


	2. The right story?

(A/N): I'm glad people liked the idea of the story, thanks so much! Leave a review if you have any feedback or if you enjoyed. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I don't own the A-team :'(

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

…

Bernard sat nervously in Dr Ritcher's office, waiting for whatever he wanted to be asked. He winced as he touched the mulberry bruise that surrounded his eye and covered his jaw line. His forehead was swollen, huge red blotches dotted around his face, teeth missing, he looked like he'd been mauled by a wild animal. Bits of mousy-brown hair were ripped from his head, clothes torn, a shoe discarded somewhere down the hallway. The psychologist entered the room and scrutinized the beaten man that sat idly on the chair in pain.

"Please tell me everything you can remember about this afternoon." the doctor said, sitting at his desk, leaning back.

"Well," the patient began, his British accent seeping through "We were in the canteen and then Murdock began acting strangely. I knew something was wrong because he was never that quiet. Joey kept teasing him, asking him about Ammonia and Nam, then he just lost it."

Ritcher nodded slightly, "Yes, do go on. What did he say?"

"He started screaming at us to shut up, kept mentioning about this _'Decker' _fellow, about the war. He didn't even make sense, it was like he didn't even know us. I-I was so scared."

Bernard shuddered, shakes rattling through him, blowing down his spine.

"It's all right now, Murdock has been contained in his room." the doctor assured as he sat forward in his leather chair.

"No! It's _not_ all right, I've never seen him like that. There's definitely something wrong with him, Doc, something _horribly_ wrong." Bernard chided, motioning to his head, a look of concern burning in his emerald eyes.

Ritcher sniffed, adjusting his tie, loosening it from his collar in order to release some pressure that was building up inside of him.

"We agree," he replied awkwardly.

"We?"

"Yes. The hospital staff and I. We've talked it over and we've decided that this hospital doesn't have enough experience with a patient like Murdock. I would go as far as saying he's untreatable."

"What? You can't just kick him out of the VA, especially when he's like this!" The Englishman scoffed, folding his arms defiantly.

"We're not kicking him out, we're just moving him to a different institution." explained Ritcher slowly, twiddling with his thumbs.

The Britain scratched his head in confusion, thinking hard.

"I thought you liked Murdock, I thought you'd never give up on him."

"I do," the psychologist sighed heavily, heaving himself up from the chair as he searched outside, the sunlight defining his grey hair "I've known Mr Murdock for many years, ever since he first came to the VA. He's always been troubled, Bernard, he's always been difficult to understand. There's only a certain amount we can do for a man, a very sick on if I may, and we've reached our limit."

Bernard stared at the doctor with disbelief. He was giving up on the man who had rescued him, who went out of his way to retrieve a shrink. How could he do this?

"So you're just shipping him off somewhere else?" he asked, a hint of aggression laced in his voice as he eyed the psychologist grudgingly. Ritcher grunted, turning towards his other patient.

"Look, I'm not 'shipping him off' anywhere. This is what he needs!"

"No h-" Bernard was cut off.

"He could of killed you if we weren't there to stop him!" the doctor shouted "He's given Joey a concussion and a broken arm. Imagine if we had arrived to find him standing over your dead bodies."

Rant over, Ritcher turned away from the British man, massaging his temples gently.

"I understand." was all that he heard, then the door slamming loudly behind him.


	3. Bite sized truth

(A/N): Secrets will be revealed. I'm hoping this story slightly confuses people, because I love getting people puzzled. Don't worry though, all will soon make sense...or will it? Thanks for the reviewers, please do leave one, they really make me happy.

Disclaimer: If I owned the A-Team I'd be rich, unfortunately, I don't.

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

"Joey, slow down, we need to talk!"

Bernard jogged down the shining, slippery hallway pursuing the heavily built male being pushed by a nurse in front of him. His movements were slow and awkward as he dodged patients in wheelchairs and busy doctors rushing around the VA. The Britain's blood pounded in his ears, mind foggy like the cold, late evening air outside. Joey ordered the nurse to turn him to Bernard. The wheelchair wheels screeched loudly on the marble floor as he faced his tailgater. His arm was wrapped in a cast, head bandaged, his lip stuck outwards, eyes clouded with suppressed rage and pain.

"What do you want?" he growled as he motioned for the nurse to leave. Bernard breathed a sigh of relief as he clutched his bruised rib cage and sat down on a bench.

"It's about Murdock,"

"That crazy son of a bitch? Why do ya' wanna talk 'bout him?"

"Don't you think all of this is unfair?" The Englishman asked, prodding his scabbed fingers as he lowered his sympathetic voice, so no one would hear.

"Look what he's done to us, Bernie! He deserves everything he gets!" Joey snarled. He looked around himself anxiously, his gruff composure and tone returned. "You didn't tell Richter what what _actually _happened, did you?"

Bernard's guilty gaze dropped to the floor and he sniffled.

"No, I lied. Just like you told me to do."

"Good boy." chuckled Joey, voice icy and dull like a knife left outside in winter. He glanced around him again and carried on. "We'll never mention this again, okay?"

The other man nodded, hauling himself off of the bench and walking away from the spiteful, grinning male in the wheelchair behind him. He felt like running to Dr Ritcher's office and telling him the truth, but he couldn't. If he did, Joey would make sure he'd suffer.

* * *

B.A gently eased the van into the driveway to the house Face had scammed for two weeks. It was amazing what a guy could do with a phone, twenty minutes and a nice glass of scotch by his side. Hannibal, Peck and Baracus jumped out of the vehicle and explored their abode they had been awarded with.

"She's a beauty isn't she?" The conman smiled, obviously proud, and lowered himself onto a nearby leather couch. The colonel nodded in agreement and sat next to Faceman, fishing out a cigar from his pocket.

"And there was me beginning to think you'd lost your touch, Lieutenant." He chuckled lightly, sticking the tobacco cylinder in his mouth and chewing on it.

"Yeah," A moody, ungraceful voice floated in from the hallway, grabbing the attention of the two other men. "We got any missions, Hannibal?"

"I managed to get Stockwell to give us some time off, two weeks in fact." He glanced at Face who grinned broadly in admiration. Hannibal noticed B.A's jaw twitch and his fists clench, a look of anguish planted itself upon his face.

"I need some air," Grunted the burly male, quickly stepping out into the sunlight, emotions all in plain view. The scam man shot Hannibal a concerned look and he got up from the sofa.

"I'm gonna go see if he's all right."

The chilly night air caressed his skin as he stepped out onto the deck where B.A had escaped to. Slowly he crept over next to the mechanic and exhaled.

"Beautiful isn't it?" he whispered, looking out over the stars that shone in the indigo sky. B.A released a groan and moved further up the deck, avoiding Peck's frustrated gaze as he did so.

"What's wrong, man?" he asked, following the black, buff Sergeant.

"I don't trust that hospital, Face. Something doesn't seem right 'bout it." Baracus grumbled as he dragged his hand over his weary, confused features. The conman had never seen B.A so concerned about Murdock's welfare since he was shot that one time, still, it was quite disturbing.

"There's nothing to worry about. Murdock will be fine, he always is!" The Lieutenant patted the Sergeant gently on the shoulder as they watched luminous spheres run across the night sky.


	4. How the great fall

(A/N): Thank you to Sandilynn Petersen for the wonderful reviews that I have been receiving. Please leave one! The song that Murdock sings is 'Days' by 'The Kinks' and 'Who'll stop the rain' by 'Creedence Clearwater Revival'

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my imagination and my laptop.

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

Murdock twisted and turned on the rattling bed, desperately trying to escape the haunting memories that invaded his mind as he slept. He quivered and shook, groaned and screamed at the catastrophic, grotesque nightmares that lay in the dark recesses of his thoughts.

Doctor Ritcher passed by, swift like the wind. He stopped and walked back to the Pilot's locked room, watching his patient enveloped in covers and sheets. A small, sadistic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he chuckled to himself.

"Oh, how the great fall."

Then without another word he ambled away, evil grin still plastered on face.

* * *

The next morning the Captain awoke with a start. His eyes were red and weary, tears stained on his pale cheeks. A nurse, orderlies and Doctor Ritcher himself had surrounded him. He felt trapped, alone, he knew resistance was futile.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

"Are you ready to go, Mr Murdock?" the nurse asked, batting her eyelids in a promising motion. He had let his guard down and before he knew it, the beefy orderlies had grabbed him by his arms.

"Hey, I know I'm popular, but y'all need to calm down a bit." the Southern man smirked, trying to wriggle out of their vice-like grip. The group of hospital staff did not seem amused, but only angered more. They dragged him over to the bed and pushed him onto it and began pulling a straight jacket onto him. Dr Ritcher watched him struggle against them, his bleak face emotionless.

"Get off me! Get away!" The Pilot shouted, kicking against the waves of orderlies that swarmed around him. Finally when they had finished the Doctor spoke.

"Get the Lorazepam, hold him down."

Murdock watched in horror as the same nurse that distracted him took out a bottle and syringe. He howled and cursed and tried hopelessly to get free, but it was all in vain. The nurse returned and a sinister look flashed across her features. Woman or not, Murdock was not going to let anyone disable his chances of escape. He hocked a huge glob of spit in her face as she advanced. She shrieked and screamed, dropping the syringe as she did so. Everyone panicked and swiveled around to help her.

_'Now's my chance to get outta here!' _

With a yell of joy, the Captain leaped off of the bed and rammed into the orderlies. They fell like bowling pins. As he sprinted out of the door, the fallen staff scrambled to their feet and scuttled after him; sedatives at the ready.

"Gangway, comin' through!"

Murdock charged down the white halls, dodging incoming gropes by huge orderlies and furious nurses. He looked behind him, no one seemed to be following him, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned his head back around.

_**CRASH!**_

The Pilot was tackled to the floor, mind spinning, angry voices dripping in his time they made sure he couldn't get away. They sat on his legs, held his head down to the floor, revealed an open part to his neck and jabbed in the syringe. He started to sing to piss the staff off even more.

"_Thank you for the days,  
Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.  
I'm thinking of the days,  
I wont forget a single day, believe me." _

He was picked up from the floor and placed into a wheelchair, strapped down tightly and brought out to a white van. Shoved forcefully inside, he began singing again.

"_Long as I remember the rain been comin' down  
Clouds of mystery pourin' confusion on the ground.  
Good men through the ages tryin' to find the sun.  
And I wonder still I wonder who'll stop the rain."_

He was tempted to carry on, but a wave of drowsiness washed over him. He didn't have the energy to even move, let alone sing. Ritcher smiled at him with horrifying glee.

"Now, Mr Murdock, do behave. You'll enjoy your new hospital, I'm sure of that."

The slamming doors burnt in his ears and the rumble of the engine was like tiny razor sharp needles stabbing into his skin. Black spots threatened his consciousness and dared him to stay awake. His own voice hissed at him.

"**What're gonna do now, boy?"**


	5. Waking up in the Fruitcake Factory

(A/N): I've been rumbled...maybe. You'll just have to wait and see what future chapters bring. Oh yeah, and a merry Christmas to you all.

Disclaimer: I don't own the A-team, blah, blah, blah.

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

There was something different about Face. His eyes were glazed with sleep deprivation, pain, but his expressions seemed perfectly normal. B.A had noticed his movements seemed robotic, offbeat, like someone else was controlling him. Hannibal seemed more and more unlike himself with each growing hour. There was something fishy going on, something sinister, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Are we allowed to visit Murdock yet?" he asked as the two other men sat in an eerie silence. The conman winced and glanced cautiously over to the Colonel, as if searching for an answer. Then he turned back to the mechanic.

"It's been one day, B.A. I bet he's only just got there."

A tiny, wild smirk flashed onto his face for a mini-second before disappearing. Hannibal clenched his fists and shifted awkwardly in his seat, like he was unable to keep still. Baracus was beginning to grow dangerously suspicious. He mused. Why was this 'Alice' place so far away?

"Hey, Hannibal? How come this hospital is all the way in Texas?" the burly male pondered.

This time the Colonel was the one to give Face uneasy looks. He gulped, loosening his collar and sat forward.

"It's the _only_ hospital that can treat Murdock properly, B.A." he explained, seizing a cigar from his pocket with shaky hands.

"What exactly is wrong with the crazy fool?" The mechanic was digging deep in the question mine. He wasn't going to give up without answers, certainly when they involved Murdock. They were a team. And a team trusted each other and told each other their problems and secrets, so why was his other team members hiding something from him? Hannibal opened and quickly closed his mouth, putting away his cigar. The Colonel eyed the floor guiltily, but didn't say a word. Something was definitely wrong. Hannibal never, ever put away a smoke when he was allowed to go ahead and have one. No one else said a word and sat in an uncomfortable, deafening silence.

* * *

It was bright, far too bright. Where was he? Who was he? He was H.M Murdock, now officially a patient at the 'Alice Mental Institution'. His teeth chattered with a mixture of nervousness and cold, their sound ever so slowly chipping away at his confidence. The chill nibbled like rats. He tried to clamp his jaw shut but it refused to do so. He grunted in annoyance. The dirty, stained tiles that lay sloppily at his feet made him anxious. The dripping noise behind him made his blood icy. He shivered. The hard, small chair, which he was sat on, splintered his paling skin.

"Need...to...stretch," he slurred, theLorazepam still clinging to his conscious state, but he couldn't, his arms were strapped around his waist, the brass buckles that locked around him taunting him with their authority.

"Damn..straight jackets,"

Now he heard footsteps, loud ones, angry ones that seemed to growl with every destination they made. His brown, frightened eyes were still glazed over with man-made sleep. He smelt the musky stench of leather that had been left in the rain, tasted the dankness that it held. With every struggled attempt to break free from his restraints, his vision became slightly clearer. It was a short figure, bulky, muscular. At first he thought it was his beloved ugly mud-sucker. But it was some stranger, a woman. Fierce; completely the opposite of what a lady _should_ be. He grimaced as she examined him and she turned towards the darkness and called.

"The patient is awake, sir."

Murdock felt a spark of wittiness ignite inside of him. He planted a look of mock-hurt on his face.

"I do have a name, ya' know! Thought ya'll were s'posed to be smart fella's too."

The woman grumbled and the other person stepped forward. He was also petite, but slender and innocent looking unlike the female. The Pilot scrunched up his nose and stared at each of them.

"What's goin' on here, is it opposite day or somethin'?"

The small man chuckled genuinely, Murdock was intrigued by it, yet horrified. He had a sympathetic glint in his pale blue eyes and a warm, inviting presence about him.

"I'm Doctor Williams, how are you today, Mr Murdock?" he asked gently as he stepped towards the man in the chair.

"Well considerin' I just woke up from bein' drugged 'n' restrained...I'm doin' pretty well. I didn't know you Quacks were so friendly in this Fruitcake Factory." The Captain returned an awkward grin and motioned to the straight jacket using his head. "Think you can lemme outta this hug-me-jacket while ya' here?"

"I'm sorry, but not right now. Not until we get you to your room. Nurse?"

The woman lifted Murdock up from the chair and dragged him along by the straight jacket collar. This made the Pilot choke, his body releasing rattled, stricken coughs and splutters, made his desperate face turn blue. But did either member of staff stop? No. They smiled with glee, hate-filled glee. He thought of Doctor Williams as a nice man, but it was all a mask.

The corridors were filthy, rat excrement scattered and splattered across the floors and walls. The grotesque, rank smell slapped his physiognomy. Shadows skated across the stained walls and he heard fearful shrieks from rooms with flashing lights. What was this place? Suddenly he didn't feel so witty any more. He felt scared, no, terrified, and he hadn't even gotten to his room yet.


	6. A day in captivity

(A/N): I love puzzling people.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

Bernard couldn't take it any more. Guilt was eating away at him, tearing out his insides. He had to tell someone or he'd lose it. Ritcher? Would Ritcher even believe him? It didn't matter, he _had _to tell someone. He picked himself up from his bed and ventured out into the hallway. It was too quiet. Shaking his head in dismay, he walked onward to the doctors office. This was unfair on Murdock, he didn't even have a say in any of this. He only wished Joey would comply. Bernard didn't care what Joey did to him, it was all going to be worth it in the end. He threw open the office door and stormed in.

"I need to talk to you-"

"I'm busy, Mr O'Neil-"

"I need to talk _**now**_."

Ritcher faced the Englishman, expression anguished and flustered. He shoved the large folder he was reading into a draw with a flurry, and re-adjusted himself. Bernard scrutinized him but dusted it off. He sat down before the psychologist, slamming his fist down onto the table with force.

"The story about the Murdock flipped out. It's all lies," he explained, but Ritcher cut him off again.

"I know, and it's okay."

"What? I lied about the welfare of a fellow patient. Shouldn't I at least be in trouble?"

"I understand, but Murdock really _does _need this. He's a problem patient, his condition has gotten more and more out of hand recently. The hospital transfer was for the best."

"Murdock's not a 'problem patient', he's a good man. We all know that!" the Britain argued.

Ritcher grumbled before speaking again. "Trust me Mr O'Neil, I'm a doctor."

Bernard still didn't believe him entirely by that statement, but what could he do? He was just a patient. He decided to let it go for now before he embarrassed himself.

"So," he asked thoughtfully "What's this 'Alice Mental Institution' like anyway?"

Doctor Ritcher plastered on a fake grin, that didn't meet his eyes, and chuckled.

"Oh," he mused, his gaze wandering off into the distance "It's superb; the perfect place to re-cooperate..."

* * *

He could be a stubborn bastard sometimes. But that's what he loved about himself, his profanity, his ass-likeness, his zaniness. But it seemed the hospital staff didn't. In fact, they hated it. They tried to get him to go into his room calmly, collectively, but he wasn't having any of it. They tried to usher him into his room but he glued himself to the unscrupulous floor. They even tried asking nicely, but alas, ʹtwas all in vain. They just ended up shoving him. His lanky body tumbled amongst the grubby tiles that were dotted carelessly on the ground.

"Hey, you gonna get this thing off me now?"

His question was met with a snort and a slam of the black, iron door that sealed him in. He slid himself up a fraudulent, grey wall and managed to regain his balance.

"Take a walk in my shoes 'n' see how much you'd like this!" the Captain hollered angrily.

But he didn't really understand his own shoes himself. They were colourful, they shimmied and danced around the edges. They heard things and saw things and changed his perception of things. He couldn't even remember the _actual_ reason he was even here. Sure, he injured two people but that didn't deserve going to a place like this, did it? His thoughts ran like pavement chalk drawings in the rain. Too many questions, too fast, too soon. For now, he just had to concentrate on not pissing the wrong people off.

* * *

"Doctor Williams, shouldn't we have interviewed him further?" Nurse Carey asked, as the two of them walked briskly down the filthy hallway. Williams rolled his mocha eyes and sniffed. He stopped and turned towards the muscular woman, his gaze barring into hers.

"I don't think you understand completely, Nurse." he chided, his tone suddenly like ice. The female opened and closed her mouth at the quick personality change against her. His figure was hunched and frustrated, his face had suddenly grew older. He swiveled on his heels and ambled down the corridor. Shaking her head, she went the opposite way.

* * *

The bars on the window grinned at him spitefully. Only rays of dull light crept through the gaps and laughed.

"**You're like an animal in here, trapped." **

He agreed with the mocking voice that hissed in his ears. It made him feel sick when its heavy, ravenous breathing hung around his head. A sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Who's to say I'm not all ready an animal, hmm? They do call me 'Howlin' Mad' Murdock, don't they?"

"**Look at yourself. A day in captivity and you're all ready talking to thin air, how pathetic are you?"**

"I never realized I was this funny." He was trying to make the pain go away, trying to humour it, but it wouldn't work.

"**No wonder they left you,"**

"Who?"

"**The A-team."**

Just that statement made him flinch. He had a crippling fear of being forgotten by the only decent men he trusted. Was he really going to rot in here? He prayed they'd come soon, he couldn't stand listening to his own taunting voice telling him the facts.

He couldn't trust the _real _Murdock to come out. Not again.


	7. Eskimo feelings

**(A/N): Happy new year, everyone!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em.**

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

It had gotten a lot darker in his room. Well, it wasn't a room to him, it felt more like a prison cell. The constant banging on the walls echoed around him, mixed with those agonizing screams and that dripping noise he had grown to hate. He would scrunch himself up into a little ball every time he heard footsteps pass the big, black, rusty door that trapped him in. But then they'd fade away and he'd feel lonely again. The Pilot had managed to slightly loosen the straight jacket he'd been shoved into, but it took a _lot _of wriggling and now his shoulders were starting to feel numb.

How long had he been locked in here? Had it been five, six, seven hours? The sun had hidden behind the grey, looming clouds that overlooked the institution. He could try to sleep, but he'd be just as scared, maybe even more terrified. Being unconscious was being isolated inside your own head with nowhere to go. He blew out a heavy sigh. Boredom; he hated it. He was never bored when he was with the team. He could annoy B.A, narrowly avoiding getting beaten to a pulp gave him that feeling of ecstasy. He had never noticed how much he missed them. He needed to get rid of this thought before he plunged into depression. What could he think of? Walls? No, they reminded him too much of the Mudsucker. Beautiful women? Nope, Face always had girls around him. White? Hannibal's damn hair. Everything he thought of managed to fit in the huge puzzle that the A-team had created in his mind.

His arms were going numb now. He needed something to distract himself-

A noise.

But it wasn't one of the normal, occurring noises that repeated itself over and over again, this was a one time thing. Quickly, he waddled over to the door and looked out of the small, cracked window. Someone was struggling, fighting, against the huge nurse he'd seen earlier. He was tall, slender, just like him, but with messy, jet black hair and piercing periwinkle eyes, one of the brightest pairs he'd ever seen! She was wrestling against him, slamming him into walls, but he wasn't giving up. Murdock felt like screaming at the woman to leave him alone, but he was memorized._'Entertainment, at last!' _he thought to himself. The man grunted loudly every time she smacked him or pushed him, maybe because he couldn't hit a lady? Sure, he was being a gentleman, but that was not a female out there. That though had the Captain giggling to himself. The stranger shuffled along past his door and stared at Murdock, those fantastic orbs reaching into his very soul.

* * *

B.A was annoyed.

Why did everyone seem so relaxed? Something wasn't right. Was Hannibal smoking less? He hadn't seen the Colonel light up in a long time. Was it something he was hiding perhaps? Guilt? A deadly secret? He sat upon the couch eyeing Face slowly finish his cup of coffee. His hair wasn't combed, his shirt and jacket were wrinkled and his trousers were stained. He looked more like Murdock than the usual, suave Templeton Peck.

"Face, have you noticed anything different 'bout Hannibal?"

The conman's head shot up and he looked around the room cautiously. He gulped and seemed to hesitate.

"No, why?" he asked as he continued to scan the lounge with weary eyes.

"I was just thinkin'" B.A replied "He's been actin' weird lately."

Almost immediately the Lieutenant commented.

"I don't think he has, it's just you."

"Huh?"

"It doesn't matter.."

The mechanic was about to return a remark, but he couldn't think why Face was being so protective about _this_ subject. He had to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Murdock lay in the much-too-small cot that punched into his back, the stranger was a distant, but happy memory. His feet dangled off the edge and floated just above the ground. It was almost completely dark in his cell now, the light had escaped joyously from his view, only the flickering, dim light bulb saved him from the black of night-

With a flash, it went out.

Just his luck. He grumbled under his breath. Even if he wanted to sleep (which he did not), it would be impossible because of the moaning from next door. Everything seemed to frustrate him in this place. The noise, the staff, the cold. He wasn't cold, he was freezing. He felt like an Eskimo, in the middle of winter, stuck in an ice-cube with the heating off!

"**Stop complaining, you wimp!" **

Oh, and there was that stupid voice in his head too.

"What do you want?" he snapped, sitting up.

"**I wanna get out of here, that's what I want." **

Murdock agreed. He wanted out also, this was becoming tedious.

"Hey, me too. We're just a bunch of dreamers aren't we?"

"**Escape, that's what we need to do!" **

"You mean that's what _I _need to do, you're just a voice."

"**I'm as real as you want me to be, Murdock." **

"Sure,"

The voice was quiet. Meh, he'd had enough of it anyway.


	8. Meeting the inmates

**(A/N): Sorry for lack of updating. So I've done an extra long chapter for y'all. **

**Disclaimer: I want them but I'll never have the A-team.**

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

He was still grumbling to himself when the early dawn light shone through the bars on the window. It filtered the room like a dull fog and drowned everything it touched.

"Well you certainly took your time, Mr Sun!" the Pilot exclaimed sarcastically.

He stumbled over and looked out on the horizon. It was endless miles of vast desert. No other signs of civilization in sight. A lonely tumble weed rolled in the wind and everything was silent for a moment. The sky was thick with huge, dark, monstrous clouds that slowly ran across the sky. _'There's a storm a-brewin' _he thought to himself as he watched the very first drop of rain trickle down the glass. He tried to touch it but he couldn't fit his joint arms through the bars. The second drop flew down next to the first one.

"You can do it number one!" he encouraged as the two tears from heaven raced down the window. He couldn't tell which had won because more liquid threw itself at him. In shock, he jumped back and landed with a thump on the dirty floor. His spine ached. The rattle of keys and the door unlocking told him that Doctor Williams had entered and found Murdock on the floor staring up at him.

"If you would like to come with me Mr Murdock."

"Is that a question or an order?"

"An order, Mr Murdock." the psychologist answered coldly.

The Captain sighed and staggered up against a wall, "Where we goin'?" he asked in an innocent tone.

"_You're _going to eat something in the canteen, Mr Murdock." Williams answered as he loosened the straight jacket. The Pilot shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor.

"Can you stop callin' me that?"

"Excuse me, Mr Murdock?"

"Stop callin' me 'Mister'! I'm a Captain, not a 'Mister'!"

"Correction," the doctor countered snidely "You _were _a Captain. You haven't even got a licence, Mr Murdock."

He muttered curses under his breath and was ushered out of his cramped room.

"So who are the other nut cases I'm gonna be meetin' then?" the Pilot questioned as he was led down the filthy hallway. They arrived at some off-white double doors and the doctor turned to Murdock.

"They'll probably introduce themselves. I'm sure they'll make you comfortable."

And with that he pushed them open, revealing possibly the worst part of the institution. The walls were stained with strange, random splatters and he could hear the nibbling and squeaking of rodents scampering about. The floor was nearly black with dirt and grime and a thick, musky, sour stench hung in the air. He took sight of a group inmates in matching pyjamas. They were huddled together, cackling wildly and shouting in a nonsensical manner.

There were five of them. A fat one, a muscular bald one, a jolly-looking short one, a nervous young one and a tall one sitting all alone. The fat one was shaking his hands around in the air, the bald one was yelling at the young one, who was crying. The short one was laughing at the fat one and the tall one stared at the ceiling with intense concentration. Murdock recognized him almost instantly. _'Periwinkle eyes,' _a voice whispered in his mind. He debated with himself whether to go over to them. But instead he went to where the food was being served.

"Good day, I'll have some bacon, eggs, toast and a nice glass of freshly squeezed orange juice if you wouldn't mind."

His request was met with a snort and a heap of grey, lumpy slop that slivered around on his tray. _'What is this stuff? Gruel? It looks like gruel, or something you'd find in a chemical lab.' _

Suddenly he didn't feel so hungry any more.

"Hey, it's a new guy!" the short one boomed "Get over here!"

With a groan the Captain waddled over awkwardly with his tray and sat next to the bald one. They all stared at him with beady, but fascinated eyes. He felt like an artefact in a museum.

"A-Are you gonna finish that?" the fat one asked.

Murdock shook his head and watched, horrified, as the obese man shovelled fistfuls of the colourless gunk into his mouth. How could someone eat that? He was pretty sure even pigs would refuse if they found that in their trough.

"What you in for, mate?"

He turned to the voice. It was the angry-looking bald one. He arched a bushy eyebrow. His accent was strong and coarse. Was it Scottish? He didn't know, and he didn't really want to ask.

"Well, I was transferred here from a VA psyche ward. To be honest, I don't really know why." He answered.

"Oh come on," the short one scoffed "Everyone's got a reason to be in_** this place**_!"

The young one shot at him in annoyance. "Go on then, what's your reason?"

The short one seemed to shrink a little in his seat. The bald one nudged him roughly.

"Tell 'em."

"I'm...I'm addicted to collecting spoons." He muttered quickly and lowered his head to the floor in a mixture of embarrassment and shame.

"You're what?!" the young one howled as he began to burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.

Suddenly the short one was back to his jolly self again. "They won't let me carry them around, but I've got a huge collection in my room, wanna see?"

The young one once again exploded in hilarity.

"So," the Bald one asked, "What's your name?"

"Murdock. H.M Murdock." Replied the pilot.

"What's the 'H.M' stand for?"

"Howlin' Mad,"

"Well 'aint that somethin'!" Beamed the short one, he offered his hand to Murdock. "I'm Sid."

The Captain shook it half-heartedly. Sid pointed to the fat one. "His name is Ian, he's a bit retarded," then he pointed to the young one, "Mark," then the bald one, "Derek," and then finally the tall one on a different table, "That's Josh, he never talks."

There was an awkward silence but then Sid piped up again.

"Mark was committed because he stabbed a little girl."

The young one glared daggers at the short one. "Hey, shut up, Sid, it wasn't like that!"

"Oh, so she just happened to fall into a knife forty times?"

"I was having a bad day, all right. At least she's still alive!"

"A bad day? A bad day?! I'd hate to see you on a terrible day, you nut case!"

"Like you can talk, you hoard spoons!"

"Pack it in, you two." Derek ordered.

They turned away from each other in a huff. The bald one looked over to Murdock.

"How's Williams been treatin' you?" he asked.

Murdock blinked. What kind of question was that?

"Um," he answered cautiously, "Well, all right I guess, a little rough but I'd expect that from a quack."

Derek gave him a knowing smile and nodded his head. "Yeah, he'll be like that. He tends to pick on the newbies."

"You don't say..."

"Yeah, the staff are almost as crazy as the patients..._almost_."

Murdock was tempted to ask him why he was here, but that little, intense gleam in Derek's eye warned him not to.

"Aren't you gonna ask, mate?"

The pilot did a double take. It was like Derek had read his mind. "What?"

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm in this booby hatch?" Repeated the bald male.

"Uh, why are you in here?"

"Pushed my old man down the stairs, killed him, buried his body under the back porch and escaped a prison sentence with an insanity defence. Yep, I'm a sociopath." He finished his sentence with a small, proud, wistful grin.

Murdock was taken back. What type of hospital was he even in? One for the criminally insane?

Although, collecting spoons didn't seem so criminal.

He didn't really know how to carry on the conversation, he didn't really _want _to carry on the conversation. He tried to steer his mind somewhere else but it kept going back to Derek's story.

"_Down the stairs...body under the back porch...insanity defence...killed him." _

The Captain shuddered. How could someone do that? Suddenly he felt an arm snake itself round his shoulder. **"He's a nut job, Murdock." **the little voice in his head stated.

He agreed.

"You seem like a nervous little bloke, I'll look after ya'." Said Derek.

That was exactly what he _didn't _want.

* * *

B.A had decided enough was enough. He'd seen Face's standards slowly deteriorate and Hannibal suspiciously cutting down on cigars. He was going to get answers. Now.

He walked into the living room and caught the Conman and Colonel talking quietly about a certain 'Institution'.

"All right, what's goin' on here?" he demanded.

They both swivelled round and plastered on sheepish, flustered grins. The mechanic growled menacingly which made their eyes widen in fear.

"Ha, well..you see...uh, we were just talking-"

"'Bout what, sucka?" He cracked his knuckles, which meant: _'Get to the point or the last thing you'll remember is my fist bulldozing your face.'_

The Lieutenant gulped and licked his lips.

"How Murdock was doing, we were thinking of visiting him."

Hannibal shot a worried, but frustrated, glance at Peck, something told B.A that he wasn't supposed to have said that. Whatever they were talking about before certainly involved Murdock, but not seeing him.

"I hate bein' lied to." The Sergeant made it clear that he wasn't kidding around.

Hannibal stepped in. "We can see that, and we're sorry. We don't know if you're ready for this though. It's a big responsibility."

B.A was confused.

"I'm ready for anythin'."

"Good. Now what I'm about to tell you is strictly confidential, top secret, Government information. If it gets into the wrong hands thousands of lives will be at stake."

"Okay,"

"It all started three years ago..."

**(A/N): I love cliffhangers, sorry, couldn't resist! Thanks for reading and leave a review. **

**Until next time...**


	9. Answers

**(A/N): I'm not a huge expert on Government things so if I get some stuff wrong...sorry. Also, wanted to make it clear. 'ire' means extreme anger. Thank you. **

**Disclaimer: Do not own.**

"_In a mad world, only the mad are sane."_**  
****―**Akira Kurosawa

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

"It all started three years ago with a man named Professor Ivan Barkov. Barkov's speciality was Psychology and Biological Warfare and he had a knack for creating things that no human should have inside of them. He made fatal diseases B.A. Not only that, but he also did live experimental drug tests on soldiers that he'd kidnapped and those in hospitals like the one Murdock's in now.

"The thing is, the tests weren't to cure ailments and illnesses, they were quite the opposite. Barkov injected people with mercury to see whether the famous 'Mad Hatter Syndrome' was true. He forced mental patients LSD to huge doses of Ketamine and every other hallucinatory drug under the sun without them even knowing."

B.A nodded slowly. "So what does this have to do with Murdock?"

Hannibal continued. "Since then, Ivan has disappeared off the radar, the Government aren't sure on his whereabouts but they do suspect that he's somewhere in the US working in a certain Psychiatric hospital under the name 'Doctor Samuel Williams'."

Something clicked. "The Alice Mental Institution!"

"That's what we think anyway. Barkov is known for torturing the sick. Lobotomies, electroshock therapy, sensory deprivation, and that's just for small punishment. Last we heard he was working on a virus that could wipe out half of the country in just a few days. What really is confusing us though, is why Murdock was sent to _that _hospital." The Colonel concluded.

"What, you mean you didn't send him there on purpose?" The Mechanic asked, his gruff voice laced with puzzlement.

"No, Ritcher was the one who stressed him going there. All he told me was that Murdock snapped and injured two other patients, that's why they needed a transfer."

"And you believed him?"

"Look, B.A, I'm not a doctor. How am I supposed to know what's right and what's wrong for a violent lunatic?" He snapped.

"Maybe Doctor Ritcher is in cahoots with Barkov?" Face offered.

"Maybe, but we can't be sure just yet. If Ivan _is _in Alice, then what's to say him doing something terrible to Murdock?"

They were eloped in silence as that thought settled over them.

"So, why don't we just bust Murdock outta there?" The Sergeant questioned as he shrugged his shoulders.

"That's another thing. We're not entirely sure Barkov is in _that _hospital, he may be in a different one. And...truth be told, we don't know if we can depend on Murdock's varied sanity." Explained Hannibal. Face lowered his head to the floor and loosened his collar.

"I don't understand,"

"Murdock was transferred because he nearly killed two innocent people, no one knows why he did it or what his motives were. Doctor Ritcher said that he'd been getting worse lately, the delusions were constant and the depression was steadily rising. I mean, I know it's unlikely, but what if he turned on us while we were on a mission? What if he-"

"He wouldn't."

"But what if he _did _though,B.A." Face countered. His tone had suddenly become bitter and filled with...hate? Regret? Remorse? "I couldn't live with myself if he or any of you were hurt, I just couldn't."

"So, what are we gonna do then, Boss?"

"I don't know, B.A," He answered. "I don't know."

* * *

Bernard had paced around his room for two whole hours non stop and his feet were begging to ache.

He racked his brain about how Ritcher knew that he lied about what made Murdock lose it. Had Joey told him? If he did, Bernard knew he was going to be in big trouble. Stepping out into the hallway for a change of scenery, the Englishman walked briskly down the corridor until he stopped at the canteen. He shuddered. Murdock had nearly killed him in here. Nervous, he pushed the doors open and crept inside, his heart hammering inside of his chest. Over by the table that he normally sat on, dried, faint specks of blood stained the seats and the floor. To anyone else it would have been barely even noticeable, but to him it shone like a lighthouse.

_'I see the cleaners haven't done a very good job,' _He thought to himself.

He eyed the bench nervously; he really couldn't face going over there. Every time he tried to push those awful memories away, they'd just fight their way back in again.

_**FLASHBACK**_

"_ALL PATIENTS PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE CANTEEN."_

"_Feeding time at the zoo," Murdock said as he, Joey and Bernard dawdled down the many corridors and into the cafeteria. They collected their food, sat in their usual place, not to far from the exit but not to close so they didn't get a draft, and tucked in. It was like any other day, really. They'd talk and joke and make fun of Bernard's accent and Joey's huge, square head and then a nurse would call them up for their little, blue pills in those Styrofoam cups. They'd get fifteen more minutes out of their rooms to do whatever, but they normally stayed right where they were instead of wandering about. _

"_So, what are you getting your ma', Bernie?" Joey asked, his New York accent strong and powerful. _

"_Oh, well I just thought I'd visit her for the day, you know? Maybe get her some flowers, chocolate, make her feel special." _

"_Nice, nice. What about you, H.M?"_

_Bernard shot a pleading glance at Joey, silently begging for him to change the subject. Murdock ducked his head and grumbled under his breath, edgy look in his darting, brown eyes. _

"_What?" He questioned, chuckling awkwardly, "Don't you love your mom__enough to get her somethin' for mothers day?"_

_At this, the whole dinning hall fell silent. The pilots head shot up and the corner of his mouth flared in indignation. Straight away, Bernard knew that Murdock wasn't there any more. _

"_Woah, dude, what's with the creepy death glare? You tryin' to be that meat head P.A?"_

"_It's...B.A," He whispered, his voice laced with wrath and ire. _

"_Haha, my bad, stupid name anyway."_

"_Shut up."_

"_What did you just say?"_

"_I told you to shut up."_

_Joey scrutinized the now aggressive man facing him. One minute they were joking around and the next he was getting told shut up by a man younger than him. Joey, being the cocky bastard he was, took the argument to the next level._

"_When's that little gay fella comin' in to get you? __What's his name, Rainman?"_

"_Faceman. And he's not gay."_

"_Sure he isn't," He said, grinning slyly, "Just like you're not retarded-" _

_Murdock was standing now, his shadow looming over Joey and Bernard. He was in some sort of attack pose, hunched over, teeth bearing, eyes like slits. It was the attack pose of a wild, dangerous animal defending itself. _

"_M-Murdock, now Murdock, calm down-" Bernard tried._

_But before they both knew it, Murdock had leapt over the table and pounced on Joey. His hands were snaked around his throat and he gave no sign of stopping ramming the Yank's head on the floor. In an attempt to pull Murdock off Joey, Bernard was thrown backwards by the crazed pilot and slammed into a wall. _

"_Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"_

"_DON'T TAKE HIS SIDE!"_

_Murdock had left the nearly unconscious Joey and started pummelling the Englishman, grabbing fistfuls of hair and sticking his thumbs in his eyes-_

_**END OF FLASHBACK**_

"Hey, Bernie, you all right?"

It was Joey. Bernard silently thanked him for cutting his horrific flashback short. But then he remembered who he had to be avoiding.

"Uh, oh, it's you! Um, yeah, I'm good. Are-"

"Don't play dumb with me." The New Yorker snapped, wheeling himself forward.

"W-What...what do you mean?"

"You told Ritcher, didn't you?"

He was definitely in trouble now.


	10. Of caps and Clinical Depression

**(A/N): I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, and this short chapter. I've been quite exhausted. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise. **

"A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything."**  
―**Friedrich Nietzsche

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

"I like your jacket," Mumbled Ian quietly to Murdock. The Pilot stopped staring at Josh and turned to the other man talking to him.

"Thanks," He replied, "I like your...um...pyjamas?" There was something Murdock didn't feel confident about the way Ian blinked and looked around nervously.

"I had a jacket like yours, I loved it."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, but Nurse Carey took it away from me. Now I have to wear these things." He tugged at his striped, plaid nightwear. "Don't let her take away your jacket, it's too nice to lose." His innocent, child-like voice made a tiny, little lump rise in the back of Murdock's throat.

He nodded and smiled sadly. "Okay, Ian."

"Did you serve in Vietnam, Murdock?"

"Yes, how did you know tha-"

"Da Nang. That's in Vietnam, isn't it?" He interrupted, but he sounded he wasn't sure of himself.

"It is. I was a pilot."

"I love planes, I've never been on one though." Ian said.

"I love 'em too, though I mostly flew helicopters in 'Nam."

"Was it scary?"

**'Oh, you wouldn't even begin to imagine, fatso.' **Sneered the voice in his head. He muttered a quick shut up to it and looked back to an unfazed Ian. "Uh huh, it was."

When Ian didn't reply, Murdock turned his attention back to Josh. He was fixated with those bright, bewildered, misty eyes that were locked onto the ceiling. He wondered what he was on, what the staff must have been shoving down his throat. Above didn't seem that interesting apart from the mysterious stains that had managed to appear up there. He seemed completely oblivious to the world around him, like he was trapped in another universe.

The Captain didn't really want to ask; he felt like he was invading the other man's privacy, but he felt compelled to. "So why is Josh in here then?" He questioned Mark.

Mark opened his mouth to answer but Sid beat him to it, "Clinical depression, he tried to end his life by setting himself on fire, hanging, drinking bleach, jumping off of roofs, everything in the book apparently." He said it as if he wasn't concerned. The tone in his voice was neutral, dispassionate even, and Murdock was deeply shocked by this.

"Shouldn't he be isolated if he's suicidal?" The Pilot asked.

"He's too doped up to do anything other than drool on himself, pal. They'd be no need in locking him away." Mark piped.

**'I'm not your "Pal", creep.' **"That's degrading," Murdock said, "Poor guy. I should go talk to him."

"Don't bother; he hasn't said a single word since he was committed." Sid explained.

"Oh-" He was interrupted by a loud slamming of the double doors and heavy, angry footsteps stomping towards him; Nurse Carey. Her cold, dull grey eyes scrutinized him and she picked him up by his collar.

"We need to get you out of those clothes,"

"W-What?" He shot, sceptical.

"Hospital policy. All patients must wear required clothing. That means no jackets, no shoes with laces and most certainly...NO CAPS."

Murdock threw his hands over his head and clamped them down onto his cap. "Not my hat! You can't take away my hat! And you can't take away my jacket, either!"

"Mr Murdock if you do not come with me and give me the restricted items of clothing, I shall have to remove them from you by force." She growled.

"I ain't gonna let ya'!"

"Oh _I _won't do it," she smirked evilly, "The orderlies will." He gulped as two colossal, (aren't they always?) barbaric knuckle-heads in tiny, white uniforms crept behind her and eyed the resisting patient. "Now, Mr Murdock. Are you willing to comply?"

* * *

"I didn't tell him nothin', Joey, I swear!" Bernard cried, as the New Yorker wheeled himself tighter in on the Englishman's legs. He was slowly crushing them and not one member of staff had seemed to notice yet.

"Don't lie to me, Bernie." He rammed again, this time, excessively hard.

"I'm being honest!- For the love of God, STOP!" Joey gave one last strike against the other man's shins and stilled.

"That nut, Murdock, is where he belongs now." He whispered fiercely, "There's no need in trying to convince Ritcher to send him back here, got that?"

Bernard was still clutching at his legs in pain, "Got it."

"Good." The Yank rolled away, muttering curses under his breath.

* * *

**(A/N): Reviews are always, always, always appreciated. **


	11. Memories

**(A/N): Sorry I haven't updated in so long. I've had a lot on my hands recently...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters. **

"I wanna be sedated."

―The Ramones

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

He kicked and screamed and bucked and thrashed like a possessed man, but yet it did no good.

He was _not _going to surrender his current attire, it meant a lot to him, he wore it everyday. It was _his _style, part of his personality. He couldn't let some strangers take it. It would crush him! He loved his hat like a son, and also his jacket. He'd only been two days in this place and all ready he was starting to hate it.

Nurse Carey walked along side the struggling Murdock, smiling at him horribly. She was a stout woman. Dark, mahogany hair in a tight bun going lifeless and thin. Her cold, grey eyes, slit-like and commanding, scrutinized the patient with interest.

After a few minutes of walking- no, dragging-, they had arrived at another room suspiciously empty. Murdock, seeing this, stopped wriggling.

"Now, Mr Murdock, there are two ways you can do this; the easy way or the hard way."

The Pilot arched an eyebrow, but still remained hostile towards the Nurse, "I'm listening,"

"You can either go in their by _yourself _and undress or the orderlies will have to help you. If you try anything and I mean _anything_, I will have you restrained for longer this time, got that?" She explained.

"Got it." Murdock said weakly. Being restrained wasn't really something he fancied, especially after the punishment his arms had received while undergoing the jacket treatment.

Seeing that the patient had chosen the 'easy way', the orderlies dropped Murdock and let him make his way inside of the room. With a slam of the old iron door, the Captain released the huge breath of air he hadn't realised he was holding and started to cautiously take off layers of clothing. When he was completely naked, spare for his underwear, socks and cap, Murdock called out in a shaky voice, "Uh, th-there's no other.. clothes in here..."

"There wasn't supposed to be." Nurse Carey told him as the door opened and the orderlies grabbed him by his arms. Murdock tried desperately to brake free of their hold and cover himself, though his efforts were in vain. Once again he was dragged back into the hallway and taken down the filthy corridor, his socks turning black from grime.

"Let me go, dammit! Where are you taking me?" He shouted above the two Neanderthals' grunts of annoyance. His question was ignored and they rounded the corner, where another room awaited. This time with a chair, table, and some razors and hair-clippers set on top. His eyes widened with panic and he noticeably paled. "No!" He shrieked as he fell limp in the orderlies arms so they had to carry him inside, "_No, no, no, no, no_!"

Murdock was sat on the hard, metal chair, his hands tied to the arms of the chair tightly, his cap removed and his head held in place by straps. It was one of the attendants that came at him with the clippers and the other one who made sure he didn't squirm.

He screwed his eyes shut and felt the trimmer scrape against his head. The loud, angry buzz of the cutter rang in his ears. He opened his eyes again. The light was dim, flickering, and he could only see the aggressive outlines of the hospital staff. The razor glinted in the light from one of their hands. Murdock once again tried to free himself, eyes wide with terror, the screams of dying soldiers wading in his ears. Blood, so much blood.

"_Ngừng chuyển động!_" The Viet Cong screeched.

All of a sudden he had forgotten his brave, strong demeanour and was now visibly crying. "Tôi không biết gì. Xin vui lòng, để tôi đi!" Begged the Pilot.

"_Ai làm bạn làm việc cho?_" One of the interrogators asked forcefully, raising the knife closer to Murdock's face.

"Không ai cả! Tôi làm việc cho không ai!" He answered, his voice bordering on the edge of hysteria.

The soldier lowered the blade and turned towards the others.

"What's he doing!?" Demanded the orderly to Nurse Carey, "I was only going to shave him!"

"He must be having a flashback; it says on his records he has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Put down the razor and get Doctor Williams." The Nurse ordered.

As the attendant went to find the Doctor, Murdock was still in Vietnam, overwhelmed with sights and smells of burning bodies and the metallic stench that was blood boiling in his nose. "Face! Face where are you?" He yelled desperately, fighting through jungle, dodging gunfire.

* * *

"Face! Face where are you?"

"In here, B.A," The Conman answered as the gold-wearing Sergeant walked into the living room, "I'm just about to go to the hospital to check Murdock's files and snoop around. How do I look?"

"Like a fool dressed as a doctor." The Mechanic grumbled sourly. He was still pissed at Hannibal and Face for not questioning Richter's motives more. And now it had resulted in Murdock getting shipped off to a place they didn't know all the details about. Needless to say he had made it quite sure that they were going to get him back.

"I think you look swell, Lieutenant." Said Hannibal, entering the room.

"Why thank you, Colonel. I need you to come with me on this scam."

"Me? Why me?" The silver-haired male asked, pointing to himself.

"Well... uh... let's just say my plan involves an elderly person, and well... you look more the part."

The Colonel grumbled as Face led him to the 'Vette, took off and headed for the VA.

* * *

"_Phi công chết tiệt,_"

Murdock was still tied to the chair, his body shaking with cold. His teeth chattered, brown, wild eyes darting around the torture shack. As Doctor Williams arrived, the Captain stared at him furiously. "You'll get nothing out of me, you sick son of a bitch, ya' hear!" He spat in one of the orderlies faces. The attendant backhanded him powerfully.

...Murdock's nose started to bleed.

He was hit once again with the grotesque stench of blood and bodies. The bodies loaded into the back of his chopper, the groaning that emanated into the cockpit, the intestines, the limbs, the cries.

All of this was too much for him to handle. He thrashed like a madman in the chair, howling like a wolf at the full moon, seeing red and the hospital staff were stunned, but only for a minute.

"Should we sedate him, Doctor?" Nurse Carey asked.

Williams paused, lost in thought at the struggling man before him. His reply was short, simple, but left the rest of the staff in shock. "No." A small wisp of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, "Go, all of you, I want to spend some time with Mr Murdock."

"B-But, Doctor-" The Nurse tried,

"I said go."

The door slammed and Williams was left with the Captain, panting and sweating, though still fighting against his bonds. They gazed into each others eyes in painful, agonising silence, save for Murdock's laboured breathing.

"You seem to be haunted by your past, Mr Murdock. I wonder what you did back in Vietnam. How many men did you kill, Mr Murdock, how many lives did you ruin?" He asked the question mockingly, insightful as if the Pilot was a child who had misbehaved. Murdock's lip quivered at the memories and the Doctor let the words roll of his tongue, spiteful and filled with hate. "Murderer."

He smirked devilishly, oh how much fun he would have with this troubled man.

* * *

**(A/N): Please leave a review and tell me what you thought. Thanks for reading.**


	12. Files and Shark-like smiles

**(A/N): I am ****_so very sorry _****I haven't updated in such a long time! Half of the time I have no idea what goes on inside my head. The italic underlined words are files and records. Bold is Murdock's thoughts and that little voice inside his head.**

**Disclaimer: I own Nada. **

"If only his mind were as easy to fix as his body."  
― Han Nolan

**THE NIGHTMARE HOSPITAL**

* * *

His eyes locked with the psychiatrist. "You don' know what I did," he snarled, though he mentally kicked himself when his voice wavered.

Williams chuckled. "I think I have a pretty good idea." The Doctor pulled out a file from his lab coat and waved it in Murdock's face. Opening it up he began to read. "Captain Murdock, H.M, serial number 24633401. A helicopter pilot, flew for the Thunderbirds, brought wounded men back to base and dropped them off into battle. Transported cargo at one point. Oh, and would you look at this; it says here you were part of operation 'Agent Orange'." He smiled bitterly. "Agent Orange... wasn't that the deadly chemical toxin sprayed over villages? I heard it mutated people terribly-"

"No! I-I... I don' like to talk 'bout it."

"You don't?" Williams asked, mock-surprised, "Well, Mr Murdock, you've been committed to a mental facility, and we must discuss there things in order for you to get better." His tone and demeanor went serious for a second. "You were a patient at the Los Angeles Veterans Administration Hospital, is that correct?"

"Y-Yes." Stuttered Murdock.

"For 10 years?"

"Yes."

Williams' face split right down the middle into a huge, shark-like smile. "Well let me tell you something, Mr Murdock. The Alice Mental Institution is nothing like the VA you called home..."

* * *

"Face, are you sure about this?" Hannibal asked nervously.

"As sure as can be. Just follow the plan and you'll be fine." Templeton reassured.

The Colonel had never expected that sentence to be said to _him_. Smith and Peck slowly entered the VA, Hannibal hobbling over a walker and Face gently guiding him towards the reception desk. He smiled in that sickly-sweet way he always did while in the middle of a scam, letting his eyes sparkle. "Hello, I'm Doctor Carter from the Sunshine Retirement Home," he flashed his fake ID quickly, "And this is Mr Daniel Murdock, Mr Murdock's Great Uncle. As a project for the elderly people in the home, we have decided to visit relatives."

"I didn't know Murdock had a Great Uncle..." The nurse said warily.

"I never do get mentioned often." Hannibal stated, dragging out the long Texas drawl just like Murdock would. "I moved to New Orleans when H.M was born and I heard he was in the military. I had to visit him."

"Well, Murdock has been transferred to a different hospital."

"May we have the location of that hospital?" Face asked.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I am strictly forbidden to release that information." She said, emotionless.

Hannibal and Face glanced at each other quickly like they communicating using their eyes. Hannibal took the arm of the nurse gently and guided her around the desk, telling her a story from when he was a child and walking down the hallway. The woman tried to get back to her place, but the Colonel had a firm hold on her arm, and they carried on ambling down the corridor. Face watched them walk away, and when they were out of view, he smoothly went around the counter. Making his way to the filing cabinet in the back office, he opened up the draw full of patient records.

"M... M... M-Murdock!" He said, skimming over the files and finally coming across the one he desired. Flipping the folder open, his eyes traveled down the page and stopped, widening at what they saw.

_Captain Murdock H.M, serial number 24633401. Paranoid schizophrenia, intermittent memory loss, criminally insane._

_'_Criminally insane?_' _Face thought to himself.

_Pre-meditated Attempted murder of two other patients._

_'_Attempted murder!?_'_

_Transferred: Alice Mental Institution, Texas for experimental treatment, rehabilitation and Aversio__n__ Therapy._

"I've got to tell Hannibal..." Peck muttered to himself, stuffing the folder into his lab coat and walking briskly out of the room. Thankful for being unnoticed, the Blonde went to find the Colonel and warn him about the darker side of the Pilot's treatment.

* * *

"What do ya' think they're doin' to him, Derek?" Asked Mark anxiously. He'd heard the newest patient's screams and howls earlier and it was haunting him.

Derek shrugged and eyed the double doors. The little shrimp of a man didn't look like he could survive in a place like this. However, Ian _was _going on about the guy serving in 'Nam, which obviously meant the bloke had been through hell.

This place wasn't to be underestimated, though. _This _place was what you called hell, and Doctor Williams' was Satan himself; truly the sickest bastard of them all. His "treatments" were completely unorthodox and inhumane. But, who was he to judge? He had pushed his father down the stairs and buried the body under the back porch...

* * *

**"Weakling!" **

Murdock bit his tongue to silence himself from answering back. Frustration planted itself on his face and Williams noticed this, grinning.

"Something the matter, Mr Murdock?" He asked snidely.

**"If I had a knife right now, I'd-"**

"Shut up," murmured the Pilot under his breath. He begged the voice to just leave him alone. It had been bugging him for the last hour and it was driving him crazy.

The Doctor watched his patient, brown eyes glistening with fascination. He wanted to explore the darkest, dustiest corners of Murdock's mind and see how much the man could take before he _finally _snapped; he needed to grill him more. This was only the beginning.

Soon, the _real _fun would begin.

* * *

**(A/N): Wow, this chapter was awful. Sorry for it being so short and so crappy. Until next time...**


End file.
